


Opening Night

by cosmic_llin



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-11
Updated: 2016-10-11
Packaged: 2018-08-21 22:37:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8262929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmic_llin/pseuds/cosmic_llin
Summary: Beverly is anxious about her new play. Deanna helps her to relax.Written for Trek Femslash PWP Week.





	

Even if Deanna hadn’t attended every single opening night of every single one of Beverly’s plays, she would always have known when they were by the feel of Beverly’s mind in the hours and days leading up to the big night.

Earlier that day, during their weekly meeting to discuss their shared patients, Beverly had been a little distracted. Now, after the final dress rehearsal, Deanna could feel Beverly’s mind, taut with excitement and anxiety, before she arrived at the recreation room.

Beverly was sitting in the middle of the set, still in costume. They play was a twenty-first-century satire about capitalism, and Beverly’s character was a businesswoman who wore a suit – a pencil skirt, a blouse, a jacket, and hair in a neat coil, low down her neck. Deanna stood in the doorway, allowing herself a moment to enjoy the novelty of seeing Beverly dressed up. She was sitting on edge of the cluttered desk around which much of the narrative centred, taking off the authentically high heels and flexing her feet. Deanna watched as she stretched, then got up again to inspect some element of the set.

‘Perhaps you’ve done enough for tonight?’ Deanna suggested mildly, walking into the room. ‘I’m sure the play will be wonderful.’

‘Deanna!’ Beverly smiled, and when Deanna reached her she pulled her close for a kiss. ‘I know,’ she continued. ‘You’re probably right. But I just… I don’t know, what with the trouble with the deuterium injectors, I don’t think Lieutenant Patel has had enough rehearsal time, and Ensign Murray keeps coming in too early in Act Two, and I still think there’s something missing from the set, and we still haven’t quite got that confrontation scene perfect, and…’

‘Beverly,’ said Deanna, taking her hands. ‘You’ve done everything you can do. As your counselor, I suggest you relax.’

She kissed Beverly’s neck, above the collar of her blouse.

Beverly grinned. ‘And how do you suggest I accomplish that? A hot bath? Meditation?’

‘Since I know that it’s more or less impossible for you to relax the night before a show, I don’t think any of those would work. The only way to get you to relax all the way would be to put you in stasis until an hour before curtain. But since that’s a little impractical… perhaps there’s something else I can do to help.’

She kissed her again, soft, teasing, tilting her head up to reach. Since Beverly’s collarbone was conveniently closer to the height of her mouth, after a moment she started to kiss that instead, deftly undoing the first couple of buttons on her blouse to give her easier access.

‘Computer…’ said Beverly. ‘Lock the doors to this room. Priority override only.’

She wrapped her arms around Deanna and lifted her the short distance to the desk, setting her on it so that they were closer in height. Deanna hooked her legs around Beverly to pull her closer, and smiled at the thrill of anticipation that rippled through her in response. They kissed, slow and sweet, and Deanna’s arms coiled around Beverly’s waist, under her jacket. Beverly sucked at Deanna’s top lip, and Deanna sighed, moving her hands up to stroke Beverly’s hair, tied neatly away. Still kissing Beverly, Deanna undid the bun with a few swift movements, and Beverly’s hair fell down her back. Deanna wrapped her fingers in it.

‘How did you do that?’ Beverly asked, breaking away. ‘It took me ten minutes to put it up that way!’

‘I just have skilful hands,’ Deanna said. ‘That, and the bun I used to wear back when the Enterprise first launched wasn’t the most comfortable. By the end of the day I was desperate to let it down. I got pretty quick at it.’

‘I know what you mean,’ Beverly said. ‘I can only stand it for a few hours. And these clothes… they were supposed to be for working in, back when the play is set, but they’re not the most comfortable. My movement in this skirt is so restricted…’

She wiggled against Deanna, as if to demonstrate, the material of her skirt brushing against Deanna’s stomach. Deanna trailed her fingers up Beverly’s legs, pushing up the skirt as she went until it was bunched around her hips. Beverly shivered at her touch and laughed low in her throat. Deanna pulled her close for a sudden, forceful kiss, one hand slipping between Beverly’s thighs, wrapping itself around her bare leg, her thumb stroking the crease where her thigh met her butt.

‘A little less restricted now?’ Deanna asked.

‘Much better,’ Beverly sighed.

Deanna held her that way for a while, her other hand in Beverly’s hair. Beverly’s own hands circled Deanna’s back, moved down to her waist. Eyes closed, they moved together, mouths warm, fingers tangling, limbs knocking. Deanna opened herself to Beverly’s emotions and found pleasure, warmth, a sense of rightness that always made her smile, no matter how many times she felt it from her.

After a while, Deanna moved, sliding her hands onto Beverly’s shoulders, helping her to remove her jacket, then slowly opening her blouse, following each undone button with a kiss. Beverly’s bra was cream-coloured silk and it matched her briefs. She always wore such lovely underwear. She had a taste for small, secret luxuries that Deanna found incredibly endearing. Deanna ran a hand over the smooth silk, and Beverly made a small, happy noise. Deanna moved one of her legs so that it pressed between Beverly’s thighs, then leaned to kiss the hollow of her throat, across to her shoulder, holding the blouse out of the way to move unhurriedly down her side. She could almost feel the quickening of Beverly’s heartbeat through her warming skin.

Deanna slid off the desk, and for a moment their bodies were crushed together. Then she wrapped her arms around Beverly and turned them both, and Beverly took her place on the desk, letting Deanna lower her gently backward.

‘Wait…’ Beverly said suddenly, propping herself up on her elbows. ‘I don’t want to break the props… some of them are delicate…’

Deanna stopped for one quick, fierce kiss, and then she carefully moved the globe, the pen holder, the computer monitor, the stack of papers and the strange arrangement of metal balls on strings onto the floor at the edge of the stage.

‘May I continue?’ she asked.

‘Go right ahead.’

Beverly’s legs hung off the edge of the desk. Deanna nudged them apart and moved to stand between them, leaning down to trace patterns on Beverly’s stomach with her tongue. With two fingers, she stroked Beverly through the damp silk of her briefs, sensing her shock of pleasure as much as seeing her shiver, feeling her move. The feeling jolted through Deanna in her turn. There were few more exquisite feelings than seeing Beverly like this. She squeezed her thighs together, a moment’s indulgence, then she slid Beverly’s briefs down her legs and dropped them on the floor, and stroked the soft triangle of golden curls between her hipbones. Her fingers danced onward from there, sliding slowly up and down, and Beverly moaned and threw her head back.

‘Does that feel good?’ Deanna asked.

‘You know it does,’ Beverly murmured.

‘I still like to hear you say it,’ said Deanna.

‘It feels good,’ Beverly said. ‘Oh! Yes, just there… oh…’

Deanna’s fingers worked, and her other hand moved upward to Beverly’s back, supporting her. For a little while the only sound was Beverly’s increasingly laboured breathing, and then her little gasps grew deeper, harsher, turned into moans that came from somewhere deep inside her. Deanna could feel her growing closer and closer to climax, but sometimes she plateaued at this stage and came to a gentle stop instead of orgasming. That was always nice in its own way, but this time Deanna thought she needed the release.

She leaned closer to Beverly, kissed her hot skin a few times.

‘Beverly,’ she said softly, ‘I want you to come for me, all right?’

Beverly didn’t answer, but Deanna felt the shift in her emotions, and after a few more moments she bucked in Deanna’s grip, her thighs clenching around her, her voice a whimper, and her orgasm cascaded through both of them.

Beverly lay back on the desk, her long legs limp now, and Deanna climbed up to sit beside her.

‘More relaxed now?’ she asked.

‘Mmmmmm.’

Deanna laughed. She leaned down, and they returned to kissing, without any particular urgency. After a while they got down from the desk, Deanna replaced all the props she’d removed while Beverly buttoned her blouse and straightened her skirt, and then the two of them walked hand in hand back to Deanna’s quarters for the night, where Beverly slept soundly, and didn’t dream about the play at all.


End file.
